


We'll Be Home for Christmas

by notnicorette



Series: All I Ever Wanted [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 19:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notnicorette/pseuds/notnicorette
Summary: Christmas sequel to All I Ever Wanted.Bellarke spend Christmas Eve in their new house.Sap and mush and enough happiness to make your teeth fall out.





	We'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm not sure if anyone is interested, but I couldn't help but write a Christmas sequel to All I Ever Wanted. (If you haven't, you should probably read that first.)
> 
> Bellarke are insanely happy and I'm not even a little sorry.
> 
> Here, have some Christmas fluff to make up for all that torture I put you through in the first fic. X-)

_Three Years After All I Ever Wanted_

Clarke grinned, shaking her head at Bellamy as he jogged around his pick-up, opening the passenger side door for her and offering her a hand down.

She accepted it, stepping down and into his arms.

“You’re ridiculous,” she chided in amusement as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Yes,” he concurred. “But this is our first night in our new house, and we’re going to do it right.”

Clarke couldn’t help the thrill that raced through her at his words… _our house_.

It had been an endeavor years in the making, mostly because Bellamy had wanted to do a lot of the work himself and with the help of his closest friends, and because it had taken them a while to find the perfect plot of land, but they were finally here…

Clarke turned slightly to glance at the house…the big beautiful farmhouse she and Bellamy had planned and designed every inch of together.

_Their house_.

It wasn’t completely finished…the railing wasn’t installed on the porch, the shutters hadn’t arrived, nothing was painted, trim wasn’t put in, and virtually nothing was installed in the kitchen yet, but the house was airtight and had electricity and running water, so neither of them could resist camping out there so they could have their first Christmas in their new house.

“We’re going to do _all of it_ right,” he insisted, bending down and placing an arm under her knees before she could even process.

“ _Bellamy!_ ” she squealed in surprise, wrapping her arms firmly around his neck.

He only grinned, carrying her easily across the driveway, up the steps, across the porch, and then pausing at the front door, which was shut and locked.

“Didn’t think this all the way through, did ya, genius?” she teased, grinning at him.

“Shut up and open the door,” he grumbled back good-naturedly.

Clarke wiggled around a bit, managing to extract her keys from her coat pocket and get the door open.

Bellamy nudged the door with his elbow, then turned to look at her.

“You already did this the first time you brought me here,” she reminded him.

The house had been nothing but studs then, but he’d insisted on carrying her through the cut-out that would eventually be their front door then too.

“It sounds like you have a problem with me carrying you around. Are you trying to turn your princess crown in or…?”

She grinned. “I always said it looked better on you anyway.”

“Do you want to carry me over the threshold?” he asked with a half smirk.

“Shut up and do your husbandly duties,” she chided with mock seriousness.

“Right now? Out here? It’s kinda cold, don’t you think?”

She snorted, closing her eyes as she shook her head in exasperation. “You’re ridiculous,” she informed him, then leaned in to press a kiss to his chilly cheek. “I love you,” she added softly, because it was true, and she was never more reminded of that fact than when he went out of his way to do incredibly sweet, incredibly stupid things like this for her.

Which, honestly…was a lot.

His gaze softened as he looked at her. “You ready?”

And she knew…he wasn’t just talking about going inside.

As silly as it may be, this was symbolic.

It would represent the life they intended to build together.

Little did he know, they already had a head start on that.

She nodded, trying not to tear up. “I am _so_ ready.”

He carried her over the threshold, hugging her tightly to his chest for a moment before setting her feet gently on the ground.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Blake,” he said softly, smiling down at her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Clarke couldn’t help the thrill that rushed through her at those words.

It was silly, really, considering they’d been married for over two years, but those words, combined with the fact that they were about to spend the night in their brand-new house for the first time…it filled her with a level of happiness and hope that was surprising, even to her, because she’d pretty much been full of those two emotions for a while now.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, going up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

One kiss turned into two, which turned into four, which left both of them breathless and rosy-cheeked and pressing grins against each other’s mouths.

“I have a surprise for you,” he mumbled against her lips.

She pressed her hips closer to his. “That’s literally the least surprising thing ever, Bellamy.”

He snorted, pressing one last firm kiss to her mouth before backing away. “I’m serious,” he insisted. “Stay here for a second, okay?”

She raised an eyebrow in confusion, but nodded.

He disappeared around the wall and she could hear him moving around a bit, and he was back before she could even try to sneak a peek.

“Okay,” he said, grabbing her hand and walking backward as he tugged her toward the living room.

She noticed he kept his eyes on her face, and when she finally stepped inside the room, she knew why.

He wanted to see her reaction, because not only was the room apparently the only one in the house done, complete with baseboards and electrical outlet covers and even the mantle over the fireplace, but it was also painted the soft cream color she’d chosen.

That was surprising and heart-meltingly sweet enough, but when she saw everything he’d done, she started to tear up again.

“How did you do all this?” she asked in amazement. “ _When_ did you do all this?”

She kept glancing around, trying to take everything in through tear-blurred eyes.

There was a beautiful Christmas tree right in front of the big picture window, already wrapped in clear lights that were twinkling merrily, and the fireplace was just starting to crackle with a freshly lit fire.

“It’s not a big deal,” he shrugged, looking away and getting that flush that he still got anytime she praised him too much. “I just worked on it after work the past couple weeks,” he said, as if it was no big deal.

“Bellamy…there’s a _Christmas tree_ and _curtains_ and…” she walked over, placing a hand on the bed on the floor. “…a _bed_.” She looked at him incredulously. “I brought the air mattress from my mom’s. I thought we were just going to…”

“Like I said, it’s no big deal. I just had the furniture place deliver it early. The air mattress would’ve been chilly on the hardwood floor anyway.”

Clarke bit her lip as she stared at it. The mattress they’d picked out a few weeks ago and asked the store to hold was sitting on the floor, fully made-up with sheets and blankets and pillows, resting on a giant cozy looking area rug.  

“I went ahead and put the tree up and did the lights…but I thought we could decorate it together tonight…if you want…” he said a tad unsurely, gesturing to some Target bags in the corner.

Clarke walked over to the bags, glancing inside and finding various boxes of ornaments, tinsel, ribbon, and anything else she could ever want to decorate a tree.

She set the bags back down, walking over to her husband to wrap her arms around his back. She looked up at him, shaking her head in amazement. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

“I just thought our first Christmas here shouldn’t be camping out on the floor, freezing to death and staring at drywall.”

“All those late nights you’ve been working…all those Christmas deadlines…” Clarke connected the dots.

Bellamy had told her he’d been working overtime at his job almost every night for the past two weeks, claiming they had projects that their clients needed to have done before Christmas, but apparently he’d been here, getting their living room done in time for Christmas Eve.

He nodded. “Sorry about that,” he said, a little remorsefully. “I didn’t want you to know I was working here, or I thought you might tell me to wait till after the holidays or you might come visit or something…ruin the surprise.”

“This is incredible, Bellamy. _You’re_ incredible,” she said, pressing even closer to him.

“I mean…it needed done eventually anyway,” he replied, that boyishly bashful look she loved so much making an appearance again.

“Shut up,” she insisted with zero malice. “I love it. I love _you_ ,” she told him, going up on her toes to press her lips to his, still unable to believe that much thoughtfulness and love could be contained in one person, although she really shouldn’t be, since she’d been the recipient of it for almost a decade, in one form or another, but especially in the last three or four years.

His lips quirked against hers. “Love you too,” he mumbled, before bringing a hand to the side of her face to tilt her head, sweeping her up in a kiss that quickly had her breathless and reeling.

Just when she was pressing even closer, ready to slide her hands up underneath his shirt, he ended the kiss slowly, leaving her with a reluctant final gentle press of his lips to hers before he leaned his forehead against hers, his thumbs rubbing gently on either side of her jaw. “Decorating,” he said, just as breathless as she was.

She exhaled in a bit of a chuckle, closing her eyes as she let his steady presence calm her racing heart.

It was still a mystery, even three years later, how one person could both drive her insane with the sexual chemistry between them, sending her heart racing and kicking her libido into overdrive with just one look or one touch or one kiss…and that same person was also the most calming, most comforting presence she’d ever encountered.

It made almost no sense, but she was pretty sure she did the same thing for him, and she supposed it was why they were each other’s perfect match in every way.

“Decorating,” she agreed, reminding herself that they’d have all night for…other things.

He grabbed her hand, tugging her over to the shopping bags and they started unpackaging the decorations.

He ran out to the car to get their overnight bags and the provisions they’d packed while she started hanging blue ornaments on the tree.

“I picked up something the other day,” he mentioned once he was back inside, in the midst of removing his coat and boots, which left him in the very manly and not at all adorable checkered pajama pants and Henley he’d been wearing at her mom’s house.

Mid-30’s or not, married or not, Christmas Eve in pajamas while eating pizza and watching Christmas movies was still a Griffin tradition that Clarke and Bellamy participated in every year.

Except…a couple years ago…Abby had asked if Marcus could join them.

A few months after that, he’d moved into Clarke’s childhood home.

There was a bit of a weird disconnect for Clarke, because not only did she have to get used to seeing another man in what was essentially her dad’s place, but he was also _her boss_ , and wiping marinara sauce off your face while you watched a kid get his tongue stuck to a flag poll while sitting beside a man who could put you on bedpan duty for a month was _odd_.

But her mom seemed happy and Kane turned out to be a decent guy, so Clarke was okay with it. Mostly.

And tonight, she and Bellamy were starting a new tradition…all their own.

Waking up Christmas morning in their own house.

She turned to find Bellamy rummaging through a few plastic bags. “What else did you get?!” she asked.

He finally found what he was looking for, pulling out a small bottle of fancy bourbon…the same kind her dad had loved.

The same kind she and Bellamy had shared the first night they’d spent together at her house, and then again on their first Christmas Eve together.

“I figured this was kind of tradition too,” he shrugged, grabbing two red solo cups and splashing a bit of the amber colored liquid into each.

She smiled, accepting the glass he’d stretched out toward her.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, tapping his glass against hers in a toast.

“Merry first Christmas in our new house,” she responded, tapping hers back.

They grinned at each other as they lifted their cups to their mouths.

Clarke barely let the liquid wet her closed lips before she turned away, setting her cup on the window sill. “Okay, you do silver, I’ll do blue,” she said, nodding toward the box of silver ornaments as she picked her box of blue ones back up.

They spent the next half hour or so decorating the tree in their pajamas, giggling and darting around each other like children, stealing kisses and occasionally inappropriate gropes and they were both grinning at each other like idiots by the time they started wrapping the large ribbon around the outside of the tree.

Finally, all that was left was the star on top.

Clarke took it out of the box, handing it to Bellamy.

He shook his head, grinning mischievously at her. “C’mere.”

“Bellamy…” she chided warningly, leaning away from him.

“Come on, Princess,” he grinned back playfully. “It’s tradition.”

“It’s tradition with children, not fully-grown women,” she argued.

“Well, someday, hopefully we’ll do this with our kids. But for right now, you don’t want to ruin the magic of Christmas with a step ladder, do ya?”

She sighed in mock annoyance, turning around in front of him. “Don’t hurt yourself,” she warned.

He made a noise that was half amused, half insulted, right before he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off her feet.

She hurriedly placed the star on top of the tree, then couldn’t help but sigh when Bellamy set her down, letting her body slide tantalizingly against his the last little bit of the way down.

He walked them back a few steps so they could take in the whole tree, his breath warm against her ear as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

A contented smile turned up her lips. She leaned her weight against him, putting her hands on top of his arms where they embraced her as she closed her eyes and let his warmth envelope her. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

They decided to take a tour of the house, even though Bellamy had quite literally built it and Clarke had been through it multiple times, sometimes while helping Bellamy, but everything was almost done and they’d certainly never toured it on Christmas Eve before.

They walked from room to room, hand in hand, looking out windows at the view and the stars and making hypothetical plans about how they could rearrange the dining room for large holiday meals and how they could always turn their office into another bedroom for a child if the first two children’s rooms were already full.

Eventually they ended up back in the living room, cuddled up under the blankets on their brand-new mattress, drinking hot chocolate made from water Bellamy had heated over the fire and watching the cheesy movies Clarke had downloaded to her iPad.

“I _hate_ Hallmark movies,” Bellamy grumbled good-naturedly, even though he seemed to be paying close attention to the one currently playing. “They’re so unrealistic.”

Clarke turned her head where it was resting on his chest so she could look up at him. “Oh, you hate sappy movies about how couples fall madly in love and live happily ever after? Do you really, Bellamy?” she teased. “You think that’s totally unrealistic, hmm? Maybe I should be rethinking things…” she moved away from him, pretending she was going to get up.

He grabbed her arm, tugging her back down with a warm chuckle. “I _love_ Hallmark movies,” he insisted, rolling toward her and leaning over her.

She stared up at him with a grin, her hand making its way into his hair. “You better,” she insisted, nodding playfully.

He nodded back, right up until he bumped her nose with his on purpose, and then he was kissing her.

The iPad lay forgotten, getting more and more tangled up in the blankets as they kissed.

Clarke usually lost track of most things when Bellamy was kissing her…but she did take a moment to be extremely grateful that even though they were married, even though they had more sex than any two people should probably have, they could still spend _ages_ making out like this…just enjoying each other’s warmth and nearness and how much they genuinely loved doing anything that brought them closer together.

As much as she wanted to make love to him, she also knew that, once they did, they’d both be warm and sated and getting back out of bed after that would be nearly impossible, and she still had a couple surprises of her own she needed to give him first.

When they paused, breathing deeply as they nuzzled into each other’s necks, she managed to tell him, “I haven’t given you your Christmas present yet.”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” he insisted, pressing his hips suggestively against hers.

She laughed, swatting at his shoulder. “Shut up. Let me up.”

He grumbled, but moved so she could wiggle out from under him.

She grabbed her overnight bag, taking it into the bathroom down the hallway, which had a toilet and a sink, but not much else.

There, she swapped out her snowman patterned leggings and red sweater for a simple red chemise.

It wasn’t particularly revealing…short and with spaghetti straps, yes, but the only see-through part was a lace triangle at the waist that added a touch of uniqueness and a bit of extra sultriness.

She’d tried a few different negligees and the like over the last few years, and while Bellamy seemed to appreciate all of them, he seemed to prefer simple and understated the most, and really, so did she.

Plus, tonight was special for so many reasons. She wanted to look…well…beautiful.

She took her hair out of its braid, fluffing up her natural waves with her fingers, then gave herself a once over in the mirror, deciding that the semi-innocent, semi-sexy look she had going was exactly what she wanted for tonight.  

She reached into her bag, pulling out one of Bellamy’s flannel shirts that she’d brought from their apartment and slipping it on over her chemise, both because it was chilly the further away from the fireplace she got, and because Bellamy usually loved her in his clothing more than anything fancy she bought.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door just a few inches, sticking her head out. “Hey, Bell?” she called.

“Yeah?” he answered from the living room.

“Can you come do me a favor?”

A few seconds later, he appeared at the end of the hallway. “What’s up?” he asked, starting to walk toward her.

“I hate to ask you to, but can you go back out to your truck for me?”

He paused, raising an eyebrow. “For what?”

“I think the cord to my phone charger is out there.”

Bellamy sighed a bit, looking less than thrilled at the prospect. “Are you sure you need it tonight?”

It _was_ cold as hell out there.

“Never mind, I’ll go get it,” she said, starting to push the door open further.

He instantly held up a hand, moving to put his boots and coat back on, just as she knew he would. “I’ll go,” he insisted. “Where is it?”

“Umm…I think it was on the floor? So maybe under the passenger seat. If it’s not there, check on the floor in the back, it may have gotten pushed back there.”

He gave her a bit of a side-eye at her less than concise answer, but nodded, unlocking the door and going out into a night that felt frigid, even from the one gust of wind she felt halfway down the hallway.

She waited, watching through the window until she saw him step off the porch, then she hurriedly grabbed her bag and ran back to the living room, setting up her surprise as quickly as she could.

She was nervous (and excited) about the entire thing to begin with, plus she kept worrying that he’d come back inside before she could get everything the way she wanted it, but she managed to finish, even with her hands shaking, before he ever came back in.

Taking one last look at the mantle, she took a deep breath, then went to the front door, opening it a crack. “Bellamy!”

He stuck his head around the passenger side door, where he’d clearly been bent over, trying to find her charger on the floor.

“It was in my bag. Sorry!” she called.

He grumbled, looking none-too-pleased as he shut the door and quickly made his way back inside. “It’s freezing out there,” he griped, stomping his legs a bit for warmth as he pulled the door shut behind him and unzipped his coat.

Clarke, feeling bad about the ruse, didn’t even hesitate to slide her arms under his coat and around his waist, hugging him tightly.

An involuntary shiver worked its way through him, and he wrapped his arms around her, accepting the warmth she was offering.

“Much better,” he mumbled into her hair.

She stayed there for a bit, her hands rubbing his back, letting him warm up while she just enjoyed being close to him, trying to memorize everything she was feeling…knowing that everything was going to change in just a few short minutes.

Finally, she stepped back, and his eyes roamed over her, noticing she’d changed.

She smirked, holding the sides of his borrowed flannel shirt out so he could see her lacy sleepwear underneath. “Well, this is kind of a Christmas present,” she told him, “but it’s cold, so I’m leaving your shirt on for now.”

His eyes gave her a once over...then a twice over…before he cleared his throat. “Is it weird if I say I think I like it better that way?”

She laughed, pleased that she knew him so well, and then he was grinning sheepishly back at her, and then she tugged him forward for a kiss.

She forced herself to make it short, stepping back and grabbing his hand. “Your other present is in the living room,” she said.

“Don’t you want to wait till tomorrow morning?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I can. It’s not really a present…more of a surprise, I guess.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, but he had a puzzled smile on his face.

“Come on,” she whispered, using his hand to tug him into the living room.

The minute she turned the corner, her eyes were drawn like magnets to the stockings she’d hung while he was outside, and she could feel her heart beating far faster than was probably healthy.

She turned around, watching him, and she saw his eyes search around the room, first searching the floor and the bed and then even the tree, probably expecting some sort of wrapped package.

She was waiting with baited breath, her heart and her stomach both in her throat as she noticed his eyes finally dart over to the fireplace.

A smile started to come to his face. “Oh, you hung…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he took a closer look.

He studied it in confusion for a second, then he took slow steps toward the mantle, seemingly forgetting that their hands were intertwined.

Clarke walked with him, watching his face as he studied the stockings she’d hung.

His eyes first went to the left, to the largest bright red stocking, which she’d painstakingly decorated (using glue and silver glitter) with a hammer and a stack of books. Then his eyes moved to the stocking on the right, which was slightly smaller than the first but decorated the same way, although this time with a stethoscope and a rolling pin.

And then, she could see the change on his face, the disbelief followed by careful hope…she could see the change in his breathing as his chest started moving more shallowly and rapidly…because his eyes had swung to the stocking in the middle.

The tiny _tiny_ red stocking she’d decorated with a teddy bear and a pacifier.

Her free hand came up to join their already joined hands, clasping his in both of hers.

He turned toward her, around a thousand different emotions on his face and his eyes wet with unshed tears. “Are you…?” he started to ask shakily. “Are we…?”

All she could do was nod.

His hands came up to cup her face, and she automatically put her hands on top of his, wanting to be as close to him as she could.

“Clarke…” he whispered shakily, still hesitant, as if he was afraid to believe it.

“We’re having a _baby_ ,” she whispered back, tears already starting to fall down her face.

He seemed to stop breathing, and the moment he started again, there were tears on his cheeks too and then he was pressing his lips to hers, firm and insistent and _so_ incredibly sweet.

Before she could even kiss him back, he’d moved, hugging her to him tightly.

She could only laugh, hugging him back.

After a moment, he moved back just enough to look at her. “How? When?” he asked, clearly still flustered by the news.

She was fairly sure he wasn’t asking how they’d conceived a child or the exact point in time they’d done it, since, as she’d admitted before, they had more than their fair share of sex and they’d recently taken a “not actively trying but not actively _not_ trying either” approach to birth control. “When did I find out?” she asked, assuming that was the question he was trying to ask.

He could only nod.

“Just last week,” she admitted. “I wanted to tell you right away, but…I don’t know. I wanted to do something special to tell you and…tonight seemed like the night. Are you…was this okay?” she asked, slightly hesitant, because it had seemed wrong to keep it from him, even for just a few days.

“It was perfect,” he reassured her, his hands sliding back up to cup her face. “Are you…okay?” he asked suddenly, his eyes roaming over her with concern.

She chuckled. “I’m fine, Bellamy,” she insisted.

He didn’t quite seem to buy it.

“Seriously!” she promised. “Mild morning sickness a few times, I’m starting to get tired easier…all completely normal for the first trimester. I scheduled our first OBGYN appointment for the day before New Year’s Eve,” she told him, knowing there was no way in hell he’d miss it.

“Are you sure that’s soon enough?” he asked, that worried frown still on his face.

This time, it was her turn to put her hands gently on his face, her thumbs tenderly skimming across his cheeks. “ _Bellamy_ ,” she said insistently, waiting until he looked into her eyes. “I’m fine. We’re _both_ fine. I’m probably only seven or eight weeks along. Plenty of women don’t even realize they’re pregnant for another month or two. We can wait a few more days for our first doctor’s appointment,” she promised.

The frown lines smoothed from his forehead, but he was still looking at her a bit warily, and she realized, not for the first time, just how annoyingly and _endearingly_ protective he was going to be for the next seven or eight months.

“Women have babies every day, Bellamy,” she reminded him gently, a smile on her face.

“I know,” he admitted, letting out a sigh and relaxing a bit. “But not _you_. And not _my baby_.”  

She couldn’t help the sweet smile that crossed her face. “We’re gonna be fine,” she reassured him.

He nodded, and she watched his eyes skim down her body, coming to rest on her still-flat stomach. He reached a hand out hesitantly, as if to touch her, but stopped just a few inches short.

She huffed, grabbing his hand and pressing it to her stomach.

He ducked his head, smiling a little bashfully. After all, it wasn’t like they hadn’t gotten used to touching each other in every way imaginable over the last few years. “I just…I can’t believe…” he trailed off, watching his hand skim gently across her stomach.

She put her hands on his arms, moving him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the mattress. “Sit down,” she said quietly.

He did as she asked, looking up at her a bit expectantly.

She moved into the space between his knees, gathering her silky red nightgown and bunching it just under her chest.

As she pretty much expected, Bellamy didn’t even spare her matching red underwear a glance…his eyes immediately zeroed in on her stomach.

He gently moved his hands up, one resting on the curve of her waist, the other rubbing very very tentatively at the area just around her belly button.

There were a few moments of silence before he asked, almost a little puzzled… “Are you sure?”

Clarke chuckled, moving her free hand to his shoulder. She could understand how jarred he was feeling right now, and even though he knew how pregnancy worked, it had to be a little shocking to be told there was a baby growing inside her and not be able to see any definitive proof of that, especially since he’d seen her body very up and close and personal that very morning, and he’d been completely unaware of her pregnancy then, and it hadn’t changed any in the twelve hours since.

“I’m pretty sure,” she teased.

His gaze focused back on her stomach, and then, in a move that made tears come to her eyes, he leaned in and pressed a beautifully tender kiss just above her belly button.

She watched for as long as she could, eventually shutting her eyes before she started crying on top of his head, her hand moving up to slide gently into the curls at the back of his head.

He leaned back, looking up at her, his own eyes glistening, his face full of incredulity and hope and possibly more love than she’d ever seen before…and that was saying something. “We’re having a baby,” he whispered, half-statement, half-question, as if asking for confirmation one last time.

She smiled down at him sweetly, leaning down to get closer. “We’re having a baby,” she confirmed, her voice heavy with emotion too.

And then she was leaning down, and he was stretching up, and they were sharing a kiss sweeter than any they’d ever shared, smiling and crying and laughing all at the same time as she crawled onto his lap, her knees straddling his hips and his hands supportive but gentle on her waist.

They stayed like that for who knows how long, until the smiling press of their lips against each other turned into desperate kisses, chuckles turned into breathless gasps, and holding onto each other and sharing the same air turned into the natural rhythmic movements that their bodies knew so well.

And then, even though Bellamy _loved_ to grab her by the waist and flip her onto her back...this time, he turned them oh so gently, one hand behind her back and the other slowing their fall, until she barely even felt her back hit the bed.

She opened her eyes to find him resting on one elbow beside her, his free hand skimming gently down her body.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded, using a hand on the back of his neck to bring his lips back down to hers.

Her clothes were removed impossibly slowly, and then he kissed a path down her chest, in-between her breasts, before getting a little side-tracked by her stomach again.

She gave him a moment, trying not to tear up when she thought about how much this baby was already loved, before she teased him, “Forget where you were going?”   

He grinned up at her sheepishly, pressing one last kiss to her stomach before muttering, “sorry,” and getting back on course to his original destination.

He used his hands, and his lips, and his tongue, sending her over the edge twice and yet somehow still leaving her desperate for him, as he usually did.

By the time he finally slid inside her, she was more than ready for him, the knowledge that this was what had gotten them pregnant in the first place…that part of him was currently growing into a beautiful child inside her…it all combined to make her want him even more…make her more desperate to feel him even deeper inside her than normal.

…which is why it was so _frustrating_ when he seemed to be carrying that gentle touch of his over into all aspects of their love-making.

She enjoyed the first few minutes, the soft drag of him inside her, the gentle kisses he pressed against her jaw and her neck and her collarbones…knowing _why_ he was being even sweeter and softer than normal.

But when she nipped at his earlobe and tried to raise her hips to meet his, hoping to speed things up, he didn’t budge.

“Bellamy,” she half-whined against his shoulder.

He immediately paused, moving back to look at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously.

She huffed a laugh. “Come _on_ ,” she insisted, her fingers pressing into his hips, trying to pull him closer.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he insisted.

She closed her eyes on a sigh, torn between intense sexual frustration and intense gratitude for the love and thoughtfulness of the man she got to call her husband. “You’re not going to hurt me or the baby,” she told him.

He looked at her a bit warily.

She brushed the curls off his forehead. “I’m an actual doctor, Bellamy,” she reminded him. “Trust me?” she asked, just as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

At that, he seemed to relax a little, some of the tension flowing from his body as he nodded.

“ _I need you_ ,” she told him, not caring at all how desperate she sounded as she raised her shoulders up off the bed, pressing her lips against his.

With that, some of his careful control seemed to slip a little, and he went along with her with she sped things up, even putting a hand on her hip to help her meet him thrust for thrust, his teeth nibbling at the column of her throat just how she liked.

She did, however, noticed that he moved off of her as soon as they’d both finished, in the time where they typically liked to stay wrapped up in each other, their bodies still joined and pressed firmly together as they slowly came back to reality.

She curled closer into his side, where he’d pulled her. “Bell…talk to me,” she whispered.

He looked down at her, his hand continuing to skim gently against her upper arm and over the curve of her shoulder. “I know sex is fine during pregnancy, but I just…” he sighed. “I always want you _so badly_. If it’s possible, knowing that you’re carrying my child makes me want you even more. I’m just afraid…” he trailed off. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if…”

She slid half on top of him, silencing him with a kiss. “ _Bellamy_ ,” she said, insisting he listen to her. “I am young and healthy and I can absolutely promise you that nothing is going to happen to me or this baby because you…I don’t know…pinch my ass while we’re having sex.”

At that, he cracked a smile. “Pinch your ass?” he repeated, teasing.

“I was trying to keep it PG in front of the baby!” she teased back, happy to see him relaxing. “We shouldn’t do anything too crazy, but there’s nothing wrong with the way we usually make love, okay?”

She waited until he nodded to continue. “And I need you to remember something.”

He slid his hands down to her back, tugging her even closer. “What’s that?”

“As much as you want me? …I always want you just as badly,” she said honestly.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“I know,” he repeated. “Sometimes, I still have trouble believing it…but I know. I think I just…need a little time to process.”

She scooted back down, pressing a kiss to his chest, just above his heart. “Okay, but you better hurry up about it,” she said, a playful lilt to her voice.

“Oh, yeah?” he answered in the same tone.

“Mm. I hear I’ll be horny as hell soon, and I’ll need someone to fuck me properly. If you can’t do it…” she tried to sound even a tiny bit serious, but couldn’t even manage that.

Bellamy rolled them both over, tickling her until she was squealing and half-heartedly shoving at his arms.

“If I can’t do it, you’ll what?” he grinned above her, his fingers making one last pass along her side.

“Nothing,” she admitted with an answering grin, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Something tells me you’ll be up to the job.”

“You think?” he asked.

She nodded slowly, smirking, and then they were kissing again.

Eventually, he moved to rest his forehead against her temple. “I love you,” he said softly. Then, he moved his hand down to rest on her stomach. “I love both of you,” he amended.

She turned even further into him. “We love you too,” she answered, voice cracking with emotion.

 

* * *

 

 

_The Next Morning_

Clarke awoke the next morning, and it took her a minute to get her bearings.

Because she was on a low mattress, in a room she wasn’t used to, there wasn’t any of the city noise she’d grown accustomed to, and the room seemed chillier than she was used to, too.

Honestly, it was the slight movement of Bellamy stirring at her back, his hand splaying protectively over her stomach, that made her connect all the dots.

They were in their new house…it was Christmas morning…she’d just told him they were going to have _a baby_.

She turned around, seeing he was just waking up, as well.

“Morning,” he mumbled, his eyes only half open.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He closed his eyes at the contact, humming affectionately. “Merry Christmas.”

It took him a moment, but he eventually glanced around, also realizing where they were.

She could tell the moment he remembered her news from last night, because he suddenly seemed very very awake in the course of just a second or two.

“Are you…” he moved his hand from her side to her stomach. “That wasn’t a dream?” he asked.

She smiled, shaking her head. “Not a dream.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips sweetly to hers.

She waited until he pulled back to ask, “Are you happy?”

She knew the answer, but she needed to hear it.

“Clarke…I’m _so fucking happy_ ,” he promised, his voice so sincere there was zero room for doubt. “Are you?”

She nodded, repeating his words back to him with tears in her eyes. “ _So fucking happy_.”

“I…I always knew I wanted to have kids with you. But now that it’s here…now that’s it’s real…I’ve never wanted anything more,” he told her, pushing her messy curls behind her ear.

“Me neither.” She scooted closer. “Brand new home…brand new baby…first Christmas here…we’re really going all in here, aren’t we?” she teased.

He slid his hand into the hair just behind her ear. “I need to tell you something,” he said, voice serious.

“What is it?” she asked, her hand running along his arm.

“I love this house. You _know_ how much I love this house,” he emphasized.

She smiled, nodding.

It had been a labor of love for both of them, but especially him. He’d spent years building it, putting hours and days and weeks-worth of work into every aspect, taking his perfectionist tendencies to new levels because it was _theirs_.

“I’ve dreamed about having this house…getting to share it with you.”

“I know. So have I. And we get to.”

“It’s…the house is perfect. It’s everything we wanted. It’s built damn well and you’ll make it look beautiful and I hope we spend the rest of our lives here, being sickeningly happy.”

She smiled at him a little quizzically, not sure where he was going with this. “We _will_ , Bellamy.”

He nodded. “I know we will. But…when you grow up like I did…I think you spend too long dreaming of a place.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you grow up moving around a lot and never being all that safe…you start to think of some magical place where you have all those things you’re missing out on…security and shelter and…love. I think my dreams about this house was a little bit of that.”

“That’s okay,” she insisted. “We will have all of that here. We’ll give our kids all of that here.”

“I know. But I need you to know…I didn’t need to build a house for any of that. I already had all of that…with you. Clarke…you’re my home.” His fingers scratched lightly at her stomach. “You and this baby…you’re all I need.”

Clarke didn’t even try to stop the tears this time.

She not only felt exactly the same way about him, but she knew how long of a road it had been for him to get to this place in his life.

She was beyond happy that she got to be the one that got to share that with him.

She held out her arms, saying words that had more meaning than anyone but him would ever understand in that moment. “Welcome home, Bell.”

And as he moved into the circle of her arms, the fire crackled low in the fireplace, the lights on the tree twinkled merrily, and a few fluffy snowflakes had just started to fall outside, proving that sometimes, Christmas really is magical.    

   

   

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Yes, I am 100% sure Bellamy would be that much of a basket case, both in this universe and in canon LOL
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the fluff. Merry Christmas!!


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